


Oikawa's Stars

by Kaiyou



Series: Demon AU [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Astronomy, Intimacy, M/M, demon!Kenma, platonic, relaxed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-20 23:03:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6028705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaiyou/pseuds/Kaiyou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Oikawa first met Kenma, he didn't think he was anything special. Just a friend. Then when Kenma pretended to be an alien - and really did abduct him to another world - Oikawa's opinion changed a bit. Now, though, it doesn't really matter what Kenma is, because Oikawa knows a bit about what Kenma is to him: a universe of possibilities both revealed and waiting to be discovered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oikawa's Stars

**Author's Note:**

> This is loosely based off my fallen angel/demon Kenma in our twitter RP, at @appl3p1. It's not canon to the RP tho, is just me thinking about a spinoff of possibility way out in the future. Inspired in part by Sleeping At Last's "Venus" and "Neptune" (really lovely if you like that type of music). I may continue with other bits and pieces in the future.

The freckles on Kenma’s back remind Oikawa of stars.

It’s a lazy morning in bed. Oikawa feels the itch of boredom in the back of his head, but pushes it away in favor of relaxing next to the other man in his bed, watching him play video games on his phone. Kenma is curled up on his side, away from him, back exposed by the drape of the sheet.

Kenma’s back is almost perfect. Slim and muscular, marred only by two slicing scars along his shoulder blades, scars they never talk about. The rest of the expanse of fair skin is covered with a spattering of dark spots. To most, they might appear random.

Oikawa knows them, though. In them, Oikawa finds constellations.

He reaches out and lightly touches one, feeling Kenma tense at the contact. He lets his fingertip rest still against the skin until he sees how Kenma will react. Sometimes, touch isn’t welcome. On bad days, even proximity is something to be avoided. They’re close enough now, though, that Oikawa figures that at worst his touch will be a bother, something shrugged off or answered with an annoyed look.

Instead, Kenma relaxes, allowing the touch. Letting out a breath, Oikawa starts to trace a path from one freckle to another, building pictures in his mind, telling himself stories. The legends were different than the ones he’d learned as a boy, looking up at the stars with his grandfather. These patterns were different.

Kenma’s back was like his own private sky.

Oikawa wondered, for a moment, if Kenma’s back did reflect the night sky as seen from some random planet. He wouldn’t put it past him - this man who’d come to him, after years of playing on different teams, and asked him randomly if he really wanted to be abducted by aliens.

It seemed utterly unreal, even now after all this time.

Oikawa smiled, fingers moving to stroke down Kenma’s backbone, watching him move in response. “You’re such a cat, pudding-chan.”

The giggle he got in return was short and stifled, but Oikawa knew Kenma was probably smiling. That tiny, relaxed curve of lips the other so often hid behind a hand, as if no one should see him happy. It made Oikawa pleased because, while he wasn’t the only one to make Kenma smile, some of those smiles were only for him. 

Their relationship was easy, relaxing. It wasn’t scary. He probably should have been scared, when he finally found out that Kenma was, in fact, not an alien but a demon - but that didn’t matter. Kenma was Kenma. That was what counted. 

OIkawa thought about getting up and starting the day. Instead, he said, “Why did you abduct me, pudding-chan?”

It wasn’t the first time he’d asked the question. It probably wouldn’t be the last. It was almost a script, and Kenma liked scripts. It gave him something to hold onto, like a game with set answers and responses, though they’d grown the possibilities over the time they’d played with this one.

This time, Kenma chose to pause his game and turn over, looking at him. His eyes were a gold that Oikawa never quite got over. Sometimes he wondered how he’d never guessed that Kenma and the others weren’t human. He blamed it on the fact that they didn’t get together in person too often in high school, and that Kenma almost always had his hair covering his eyes.

“Because you were stupid enough to say yes,” Kenma replied, face utterly deadpan.

The words made Oikawa smile. Sometimes Kenma’s words are like the smiles Oikawa gives to his adoring public - window dressing, the opposite of what is truly meant. “I bet it was because you missed me, pudding-chan,” Oikawa teased, watching for the tiny purse of lips on the other’s face that lets him know he’s right.

Kenma huffed and almost turned to go back to his game, but Oikawa stopped him with a hand that brushes two-tone hair out of his face.

An eyebrow lifted over those golden eyes, a question of Oikawa’s intentions. Sometimes, Kenma was passive like this. Like water. Waiting for a question, a movement, some indication of what Oikawa wants or needs. He’s always so aware.

They both are.

Kenma is gentle with him, and patient. Kenma isn’t always gentle - he’s seen the evidence of that on others - but he’s always gentle with him, beyond the meaningless razor-sharp words. Even with those, he knew Kenma would stop if he thought they actually hurt.

He wasn’t altogether sure of the depth and breadth of Kenma’s feelings for him. His own for the blond were probably just as hard to classify. That didn’t really matter, though.

It was enough that this space between them is safe, free from the tension that sometimes plagues the air outside. Oikawa knew he was important. Knew Kenma would protect him to the best of his abilities. 

“Nothing,” Oikawa finally said, in answer to Kenma’s unspoken question.

Kenma looked at him a moment more then shrugged, turning back around to his game.

Oikawa looked at his back once again, smile shifting as a hint of melancholy took him. For so long he’d thought Kenma was just another setter. He’d never been one of those players that stood out, though of course Oikawa had noticed the way he directed his team. Strategic. Smart, but subtle. Interesting enough to gain his friendship, but nothing special. Just another constellation in a sky full of them.

Now, though - now he knows that Kenma is a whole universe unto himself, and the bittersweet thing is that Oikawa will never know all of it. He won’t live forever. That’s sad - reality should always be graced with his amazing presence - but worse, somehow, than when he thinks of his relationship with Iwa-chan. They could grow old together.

Kenma will never grow old. Someday, Oikawa will be gone, and Kenma will still be here, probably playing the same old video games.

At least his memory will always live on in Kenma’s heart. His life will be like the light of a burned-out star, still traveling through the universe of Kenma for all eternity. That comforts him, a little bit.

Enough.

Shaking his head, Oikawa says, “I’m going to go get breakfast. You want anything, pudding-chan?”

“Apple pie.”

Easy response. Perfectly predictable response, like sunrise. It’s enough to make Oikawa smile. “You got it.”

Kenma may hold a multitude of memories like a universe full of stars, but for the moment, Oikawa is the one he wants to be closest too, and that’s enough. 

At least, for the moment.


End file.
